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Sunday, 24 May 2015

No way. . .

NZ Music Month - No way by The Naked and Famous

This blog post is for everyone who doesn't tell anyone what they really feel

I'm on a bit of a roll at the moment pumping out these blog posts. I had this master plan of churning out a blog post a day for this month, so the approach this year is a bit different and I have to "binge-blog" to try and catch up to my projected total of 31 blog posts (but it will be 32 as I wrote about one non-NZ song this month) so yeah, that's the reason for all of the blog post flurry for the home page (just in case you were wondering).

I hate doing that though. Not the binge-blogging. The constant explanation. I hate having to explain myself all the time. I seem to be doing a lot of that lately. Everywhere. With everyone. I must not be speaking the same languages as other people. At least that's how it feels. This communication thing can be hard. It's supposed to be a two way street, but more often than not, we will never really disclose fully, everything, to everyone. No matter how much they probe.

When the daylight comes

Do you feel it?

Leave your bag of bones

Underneath the bed

Everything is as

It should be

I'm leaving now

As I should be

I don't think I want to see your bag of bones anyway. It's probably something that you want to show me. It's something you keep underneath your bed for a reason. I know you pull out from time to time. Do you clean those bones? Are they heavy? Why do you keep that bag of bones anyway? Is it some type of comfort thing, something to reassure you when nobody else can? Bones are no good if they're not attached to flesh you know. Bones are cold and hard. I hope you remember that.

When the night descends

I sleep in

All the things you've done

Come to hold me

All that we can do

Is smile

It would be like this

For a while

I guess things will be awkward for a while, maybe even for a long time. That's the thing about not choosing to be honest with somebody. You don't have words, you have thoughts, but you won't let those thoughts pass your lips. It's like your mouth becomes a gate that can either act as an access point - it can keep things in, or keep things out, or keep things revolving - like things coming and going in that exchange that only a revolving door can do.

I wonder if all of the things that you've done will hold me. Are they necessarily all good things? No they haven't been. But lessons have been learned nonetheless. So maybe when you see me smile ,that's the reason why. I smile because not only is it more polite than saying something bad back, but it's because the smile is enough. It will be like this for a while.

No way, no way

No we're never gonna talk about it

No way, no way

No we're never gonna speak again

No way, no way

No we're never gonna talk about it

No way, no way

It's probably best not to say anything. So many things have happened, that it's actually more than just an "it". It's more like a series of "its". They're more like "bits". When you add those bits together they become "tid-bits" and maybe just fall short of "tidy bits" (well because, there's no such thing as "tidy bits" and if they were tidy, you wouldn't be feeling the need not to ever talk about it, speaking again or the like). Besides, what would you even say to make any of it go away?

Personally, I love the instrumental interlude in this song. It gives the listener an opportunity to thrash around, head bang, jump erratically around the lounge and wave your hands in the air, wave them like you just don't care. . .

I'm not sad, really

All this means, losing

Letting go, oo-oo

Don't look out, oo-oo

No way, no way, no way. . .

I think the emphatic finality of accepting that there is no way suggests that we must accept "it" for what "it" is and just part ways.

So I wish you well and I hope that you will be able to let go, much like I have let go, because there is no other way. No need to look out, look back, look sideways - just look forward and know that, despite it all there was never meant to be any other way. No way, no way, no way. . .